I’ve decided I’m going to begin blogging (occasionally) on the various things I’m learning while living in LaGrange, GA. Let me first say that none of these things are meant in an offensive way. JRB and I love LaGrange and its people. These observations only serve as… observations and are solely meant to be silly. Even though, let’s be real, these observations are 100 percent truth. I’m also not certain that these observations are just a small town thing. I’d say they’re “Southern.” Let’s begin with numero uno (that’s not Southern at all)-
Even if children aren’t in the picture, conversation always comes back to childbirth.
Obviously, when JRB and I got engaged and then married, having a family was discussed. We discussed how many children we want to have and how long we want to wait.
(This conversation is absolutely hilarious to me since in no form, shape, way, or fashion can we ever really plan that. Who really decided that THIS is the time they want to have a baby, and then it actually happens in that time frame? If that’s you, please don’t come too close to me because I don’t want to catch your mega-fertility.)
However, I’ve noticed the following:
1. The longer you’re married without children, the more they are brought up.
2. The longer you’re alive, the more childbirth is brought up.
JRB and I are getting close to our 2-year anniversary which only means one thing- it’s now not remotely shocking if I get pregnant. People who get pregnant within the first two years always surprise us a little, right? I’m not saying you’re wrong for having a baby early- good for you! But no one ( as in us your wedding guests) is fully expecting a baby that quickly. However, at the two year mark… It’s game on. You can’t get sick, feel sick, or look sick without someone wanting to know if you’re pregnant. Oh, and if I am oddly more hungry than usual. Heavens to Betsy! There must be a baby, right? Wrong.
************************************************************************************************************************When we first moved to Lagrange about a year and a half ago, we quickly found a church and got involved. Much to my surprise, these people actually liked us and invited us places. Sometimes to their houses; sometimes to a restaurant; and a lot of times to their baby showers. I had never been to many baby showers, but now I feel like a pro. (PLEASE let’s play baby shower games so I can impress you with my baby knowledge.) It wasn’t always like this, however. I remember it like it was yesterday. I had been invited to my first LaGrange baby shower, and I was crazy nervous! I didn’t know these people that well, and I really didn’t want to screw up the gift. (Lesson learned- a diaper genie is ALWAYS a good choice.) So I showed up and desperately cling to the few women I know. Then something odd happened. We began discussing childbirth and “baby things.” As the conversation turned to episiotomies and nipple creams, I not-so-slowly felt my face began to get hot. What the what?? The doctor takes what instrument and puts it where? You mean there is a career in breast feeding? I learned more in my first baby shower then I EVER did in high school health class. Maybe we need pregnant women to visit high schools. Then maybe our teenage pregnancy rate would lower, because they scared this girl half to death. Convinced I was adopting every single one of my children, I returned home to share my experience with my lovely husband. (Here are some things you should know about JRB- He’s the youngest. Wasn’t around many babies growing up. And never took an interest to babies. If anything, they may scare him a tad. Still working through that.) As I shared about the various products that do weird things to a pregnant woman’s body and the odd things that happen to pregnant women’s bodies, I began to watch my handsome, strong husband slip into an uncomfortable, vegetative state. Very quickly, he informed me that he’d like to “cross that bridge when [he] came to it.” Scarred from my first baby shower, I shied away from the next few I was invited to. Little did I know that baby showers aren’t the sole place of childbirth conversation. It happens everywhere. First, you’re in small group talking about the Apostle Paul. Next, you’re talking about how so-and-so’s arm was numb this morning. Stupid sciatic nerve. First you’re enjoying a lovely girls’ night drinking coffee with creamer. Then you quit drinking the creamer because you’re talking about breast milk. You get the picture. I suspect the reason is because at any point in time, someone I know is pregnant or just had a baby. I’ve grown out of my awkward phase and am now accepting that this is a blessing. EVENTUALLY, kids will be in the picture for us, and I’m going to be SO prepared. And for anything I don’t know, I have a long list of Sunday School/ Bible study/ Former co-workers I can call that are experts on the subject. Don’t worry, friends in large cities who never see babies, I’ll be your phone-a-friend. (I’ve included pictures of me with some of my favorite babes to prove to you that I do, in fact, love kiddos.) (They all just so happen to be girls… GIRL POWER!!)